WWE Impact
by irishpepsigurl
Summary: So, what happens when you mash all of the TNA wrestlers into the same arena, locker room, ring, and hotel, as the WWE wrestlers, in the intent of combining the companies to bring up ratings? Add mixed-company romance, and this fic is born! OC/Hernandez
1. Chapter 1

So! I am re-writing WWE Impact, and therefore this is, quite obviously, the first chapter! Enjoy, and sorry for any errors!

* * *

"Amazing," John Hennigan began, "that Vince actually agreed to this. I'm surprised, really, I am. I predict a bad end. Don't you, Mike?"

Mike Mizanin simply shrugged, his eyes shifting over to watch as Matt Morgan (known as the "Blue Print" in the TNA locker rooms) strolled by, a cell phone at his ear. He had a suitcase behind him; his knuckles were white from gripping it so tightly. And, unfortunately for Mike, the big man rolled it right over his foot. Jumping out of pain, Mike cursed like a sailor and glared back at Matt. "Damn...! John, I hate this. We've been getting dirty looks from every TNA guy we see! And now _this_!"

John clapped his companion on the shoulder agreeably, saying, "Yeah, I know, right? Oh well, don't sweat it. I'm sure Vince will get us a great storyline where we can kick Matt's sorry ass." Mike's lower lip jutted out in a pouty fashion, but he nodded and straightened up, sending a dirty look over his shoulder. With that, the two were off and through the parking garage of Orlando's airport. John put one hand in his pocket, the other occupying the handle of his suitcase as he commented, "I think Lola's waiting for us. She said for us to meet her at gate B9 half an hour ago."

To this, Mike snorted. "We'll be _fashionably _late. She'll understand. She's _Lola_."

"But Lola's not the most agreeable person..."

Of course, Mike just waved his friend's comment off and the two continued on at a leisurely pace, chatting jovially.

**Meanwhile... **

"Oh, crap! No... Not Empoleon! Damn..." Lola sighed and face palmed, slamming her elbow down on the armrest of the airport chair. The brunette was playing a rousing game of Pokemon Platinum, and her companion, Michelle McCool, was watching, not to mention the fact that she was stifling a few giggles.

"Lola, calm down!" Michelle said, resting a hand on her friend's shoulder. "It's a _video game_, not a life or death situation. Just because your...creature...thing, died-"

"_Fainted_, Michelle, _fainted_."

"Whatever! Like I was saying, just because that thing fainted doesn't mean you'll die. Chill out."

"But, but... Fine..." Lola nodded and looked down at the DS that was so preciously held in her hands. "Ah, crap. Whatever." With that, the brunette flicked up the switch without even bothering to save the game, before stowing her DS away in the carry on bag that lay at her feet. "Anyways..." She looked down at her watch and gave an exasperated sigh.

And, before she could even speak, Michelle chuckled. "Mike and John are late again, eh?"

"Ayup. _Again_." She turned to Michelle. "And, Mike is so predictable, that I know he'll give me the 'fashionably late' excuse."

The blonde laughed and patted Lola's shoulder. "Like I said: Chill out."

"Yeah, yeah, commencement of the chilling has begun." Lola pulled off her glasses and jammed them in her hoodie pocket, before placing her sunglasses on her face and tilting her head back. "Ahhh, the chilling feels nice." Michelle simply rolled her eyes and returned her eyes to the magazine which she had been reading earlier.

**OxOxO**

John and Mike found gate B9 a good half hour later, with the former groaning the complaint, "Why are we on the same flight as those...those amateurs?" Mike nodded as he searched the sea of faces for Lola or Michelle, his brow knitting impatiently. "I mean... I'll probably end up next to Matt Morgan...or...or Jeff Jarrett or something..."

"Hey, maybe we'll see Jeff Hardy," Mike thought aloud, only to gain a punch in the arm from John.

"Pff, don't get my hopes up..."

"I shan't."

"Is that even a word?"

"Is what a word?" Mike responded, looking at his friend curiously. John just shook his head and spotted Lola, who was standing in line at the small Starbucks booth. "I bet she's ordering hot chocolate without us," grumbled Mike, who put on a pouty face and made a mad dash for the open seat next to Michelle, just to piss Lola off. John, on the other hand, walked towards the brunette, thinking about how childish Mike could be at times.

"Lola!" John called, as the brunette's head whipped around.

"John. You're late. Again," she called, as she received a cup of hot chocolate, just as Mike had predicted.

"Yeah, sorry. Mike's fault. You know how he's such a drama queen sometimes. Obsessed with his looks," replied John, who shrugged, rolling his eyes behind his sunglasses.

"And you're not?" Lola asked, snorting. Neither she nor John noticed her glasses slip out of her pocket and hit the floor, and Lola approached John, taking a sip of her hot coco. "Damn, that's really hot..."

"Thanks for pointing that out, Katherine Obvious."

"What?" Lola's brow furrowed as she looked at John incredulously.

"I said, 'thanks for pointing that out, Katherine Obvious' - don't tell me your hearing is as bad as your eyesight..."

"Dude," she snorted, sipping her coco, "it's Captain Obvious. Not Katherine." John flushed red and turned around, cursing to himself silently, and cursing the television show he had been watching the night before at his hotel. "Jeez, and I thought I was a terrible speaker. Let's go." She tugged on his sleeve and practically dragged him over to sit with Michelle and Mike. The brunette sat on the other side of Michelle, rolling her eyes at Mike's tom-foolery.

Michelle herself was giving Mike the once over, as today he was wearing a white button down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows; black jeans and smart black loafers accompanied this shirt, and a gray vest was so fashionably thrown over the white shirt, along with a loose purple, white, and gray striped tie. Lastly, Mike had on a black fedora, which had a purple, white, and gray striped band encompassing it. On his wrist was a snazzy silver Rolex watch. He was the epitome of the word fashion; if you looked it up in the dictionary, his picture would be beside it.

"Lola, why are you wearing shades in an airport?" Mike asked, peering over his own black sunglasses.

"Yeah," John agreed, slinging an arm over her shoulders. "What's up with that?"

"You two shouldn't be talking," Lola shot back, pointing to Mike's and John's sunglasses. "I am not the only one wearing shades in an airport."

Michelle rolled her eyes and stood, plucking the sunglasses from Lola's face, before placing them on her own face. "Problem solved." And she sat down again.

"Jeez, Michelle! You should be a psychiatrist with all of the problems you so expertly solve," Lola return-fired, digging in her pocket. "Shit... My glasses aren't here..."

"You probably dropped them," said Mike, matter-of-factly.

"Figure that out on your own, did you?" Michelle replied, thunking Mike on the back of his head. He winced and rubbed the thunked spot gingerly, whining to John about Michelle's "abusiveness." Lola continued fumbling in her pockets, before thrusting her hot chocolate cup into John's chest; once he took hold of it she whirled around and stepped forward, only to gasp and slam right into a muscular figure.

"Crap, sorry!" she blurted, as she looked up into the face of Shawn Hernandez. John spun around and gave him a dirty look, and without a moment's hesitation, Mike did the same. "I have terrible eyesight, obviously."

Hernandez chuckled and shook his head as Lola stepped back. He held out a hand, in which a pair of glasses were so carefully held. "These yours?"

"Yeah!" Lola replied, beaming. "Thanks man." She plucked them from Hernandez's palm, unfolded them and fitted them on her face. After pushing them up, she smiled. "Yup, I can see now!" John slung an arm over her shoulders and tried to turn her around, but her feet were glued to the ground.

"It's not a problem. I saw you wearing them earlier," the TNA wrestler responded, shaking his head. "Oh, and I'm Shawn Hernandez, by the way." He held out his hand, which Lola took and shook firmly.

"Lola Lombardi. Nice to meet you," she introduced, pulling her hand out of his and jamming it in her pocket. The brunette herself was wearing a black t-shirt, a gray hoodie, black sweatpants and black Chuck Taylors that looked a bit small on her feet. "Again, thanks. My glasses are my greatest allies in the war on terrible eyesight." Michelle sighed in exasperation and threw her head back, putting in her ear buds and blasting a pop song as loud as she could stand, while Mike and John traded glances.

"Well then you may not want to lose them," Hernandez replied, smiling slightly.

"Agreed." A silence followed, with Hernandez and Lola simply staring at each other, which Mike stood up to break.

"Excuse me, but my geeky friend must now get back to her DS or one of her nerdy history books, so if you'll let her get back to her nerd work, that'd be great!" Mike declared, his disdain towards the TNA wrestler dripping off of his voice. John nodded, scowling as he slung his arm around Lola's shoulders.

"Yeah."

Hernandez put his hands up defensively. "Boys, boys, I was just doin' the lady a favor."

"I doubt it!" Mike shot back, his voice rising an octave out of drama. Lola's face reddened as she looked at Hernandez apologetically, who glanced at her in return. "You just want to earn her trust so that you can get all cozy with the WWE stars, and then you'll stab us in the back."

"Mike Mizanin!" Lola hissed, but she was ignored.

"I second that statement!" John cut in, poking Hernandez in the chest with his index finger. The TNA wrestler simply quirked an eyebrow, opening his mouth to say something in reply, but the Shaman of Sexy cut him off. "So, run along, Mr. Hernandez..."

"Jeez, John!" Lola punched his shoulder, but again, she was ignored.

"Sure." Hernandez nodded, narrowing his eyes as he adjusted his baseball cap. "I'll do that. Lola, it was nice to meet you. I hope to work with you sometime soon."

"And I hope to work with you," Lola replied, reaching out to shake his hand once more, but John smacked it down. Lola's eyes went wide as she looked at him, her fist clenching. Mike took her by the shoulders and steered her around, back to the seat.

"To you," John replied, glaring at Hernandez, "it's Ms. Lombardi." And with that, he turned and sat down to the left of Mike. Hernandez just rubbed the bridge of his nose, before turning and walking away without another word, thinking to himself about how difficult the next few months would be.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to Pixiella, Sonib89, rkoviper, and DancingWithHBK for reviewing, alerting and faving, and thanks to caspersmom for faving. I will try to update this every day, or at least every two days, but considering that I've got other projects to work on... Well, who knows? I shall try! Sorry for any errors, and enjoy!

* * *

Lola pushed her glasses up yet again as she walked down the aisle of the airplane, her blue eyes flicking from person to person as she searched for her row. "Row 11... Row 11... Ah! Row 11," she thought aloud, hoisting up her duffel bag and sliding it into the overhead compartment. With that, she tucked her carry on bag under the seat in front of her and sat down in the window seat, her eyes immediately shifting to watch the other people, wrestlers and bystanders alike.

Michelle gave her a slight wave and a wink, taking the seat in row twelve, just behind Lola; Mike was positioned in row three up at the front and John was in the middle of the plane, near the emergency exits. Lola smiled to herself and leaned her head against the cool window, her eyes moving to watch the crew outside the plane. The right edge her glasses was pressed up against the window, but she didn't seem to mind so much, nor did she see the person sit down beside her.

"Ms. Lombardi," the voice said, sounding slightly amused. Lola shot up, her head whipping around. She blushed slightly, her glasses askew and a red indentation on the right side of her face where her glasses had been pressed up against the window and her face. With warm fingers she adjusted them and cleared her throat, looking at her flight companion.

"Mr. Hernandez," she replied, nodding. "And you may call me Lola, although I prefer Lombardi."

Hernandez quirked an eyebrow, "And you may call me Shawn, or Hernandez, whichever works."

Lola threw her hands up absentmindedly as she looked at the seat in front of her, blurting out random things such as, "Oh see, well, I guess you're wondering about the whole Lombardi thing - well ever since I was a teenager, I've always prefered being called by last name as opposed to my first name, therefore that is why I always make it clear that I respond better to Lombardi. But most people forget, so if you forget I won't be upset or anything drastic like that, I would simply remind you that I prefer Lombardi, and in whatever manner I end up saying so remains to be seen." She took a deep breath and glanced at him. "I apologize for that rant. Sometimes, my mouth opens and it spews things which I have no control over."

Hernandez stared at her for a moment before grinning crookedly and chuckling. "It's fine. Don't worry about it."

"Thanks man. Anyway..." Lola patted her knees awkwardly, looking at Hernandez's feet. "So. What do you think about this whole combining the two companies idea that Vince and Jarrett came up with?" Her hands flew into the air again as she gestured absentmindedly, before they fell back into her lap limply. Hernandez looked thoughtful and sat back in his seat, crossing his ankle over his knee.

"I think it's insane, but it'll be one helluva ride." He grinned crookedly once more and looked at her. "I also think your friends need to work on their attitudes. They're pretty thick-skulled."

"I agree. I'm so sorry about those two. They've been opposed to the idea of the companies merging together from the start..." Lola buckled herself into her seat and sat back, sighing. "I think that the companies merging is a great move for ratings, and personal experience. It'll be...fun... I guess... If John and Mike refrain from pissing off any of the behemoths of TNA, everything should be a-OK." The brunette looked up at the fasten seat belt sign, averting her eyes from Hernandez's brown ones.

"It's fine. I almost hope that they get their asses kicked by Matt Morgan, or Bubba Dudley. Maybe they'd get it through their thick skulls that us TNA guys are not the ones they should be messing with," Hernandez added, ever so lightly, as not to hurt her, knocking his knuckles against Lola's head. She blushed slightly and smiled at him, nodding in agreement.

"It would be neat if the Dudley Boys kicked the crap out of them," Lola responded, glancing over at her flight companion before looking away again, adjusting her glasses. "Just ignore John and Mike. They can be a little ignorant and stubborn sometimes." After this, she tapped her fingers against her knees, watching the floor with great interest.

"What exactly was Mike talking about when referred to your nerd work?" Hernandez asked, slightly out of the blue, his eyebrows rising in curiosity.

"My nerd work...? Oh, right, right, my nerd work." Lola turned towards Hernandez, pulling her leg up and wrapping her arms around it tightly, before resting her chin on her knee. "On the side, I study history. In my younger days, I wanted to become a historian. I never really entertained the notion of taking on wrestling as my personal profession, but life is quite the unpredictable thing, so... I ended up joining the WWE, after a while of training and such." Lola pushed up her glasses again, looking at her shoes as she spaced out for a moment.

"Do you know a lot about history?"

"Hm? Oh... I suppose so..." Lola sighed and scratched the back of her head. "Lately I've been studying the French Revolution... Which is something I studied when I was a teenager, too, but it's always interesting to go back over things and see what you might have missed."

"You were the nerd in high school, weren't you?" Hernandez inquiried, amusement ringing in his voice.

Lola flushed and looked down. "Ayup." She smiled awkwardly. "Is it that obvious?"

"Only a little. I could also tell by the way you act. You just remind me of those cute nerdy girls that nobody ever really bothered to talk to in high school," he replied, closing his eyes, as he placed his hands behind his head head, interlocked his fingers, and leaned back once more.

"Wha - really? Oh... Thank you, I suppose." Lola blushed for the billionth time that day and turned away, pulling her other leg up and wrapping both of her arms around both of her legs in a bear hug of sorts. She hid her smiling face behind her knees, curled up in her secure little ball. To the passersby, she would have looked like a human rollie pollie bug.

**OxOxO**

Upon arriving at the airport in New York City, New York, there was a bit of mass confusion, as all of the wrestlers had been given precise instructions to head straight for the hotel to get some rest, because tomorrow the last batch of wrestlers would be arriving and therefore the first meeting of sorts would begin. Hernandez stepped into the aisle and let Lola out first, who, per usual, pushed up her glasses and smiled at him. "Thank you."

Hernandez nodded and popped open the overhead compartment, pulling out Lola's duffel bag first, as she grabbed her carry on and slung it over her shoulder. He then retrieved his own suitcase, and to the brunette's surprise, he took them both. "Uh, Hernandez... You don't have to take both of them. I can carry my bag..."

"It's fine," Hernandez replied, shrugging as he effortlessly slid the strap of the duffel bag onto his shoulder. "It'll be crazy trying to get out of here..."

"I appreciate it," she said, nodding, as she followed after him. Lola suddenly felt a hand lightly smack her back, and she turned her head, only to find Michelle trying to squeeze in beside her. The tall blonde nudged her, adding a little thumbs up. "What? I don't understand what this is about..." When indeed, Lola did know what Michelle was talking about.

"Lola... You're so dense."

"Lombardi, thank you, and my density is a gift."

Michelle ignored her and ruffled her hair, much to Lola's disdain, before pushing past her and disappearing in the throng of people.

"What was that about?" Hernandez questioned, once the crowd had let up and they had reached the airport terminal. He kept a firm grip on his suitcase and Lola's duffel bag as they walked along together, no John or Mike or Michelle to be seen. Lola's eyes wandered around restlessly, before she finally settled them on the path before her.

"I assume that Michelle assumes that I have a thing for you," Lola replied thoughtfully, adjusting her glasses.

"Do you?"

"What kind of question is tha-"

"_Lola_!" two voices called out at the same time. Hernandez sighed and dropped his head, coming to a dead halt as Lola looked over her shoulder, sighing as well. John and Mike came bolting up, skidding to a stop in front of their brunette companion.

"Why does this Hernandez guy have your bag?" John demanded, slightly flustered.

"He was practicing chivalry," Lola said simply, shrugging. "Something you two obviously do not know how to utilize..."

"Oh pff," Mike replied, waving his hand at the comment. "C'mon. We gotta get to the hotel."

"I realize that..." Lola turned to Hernandez and took her bag, smiling slightly. "I'm sorry about these crazies. They're just little boys trapped in men's bodies." To that comment, Lola received two "Hey's!" and an echoing "Jerk..." from John and Mike; to this she rolled her eyes and said to Hernandez, "I guess I'll see you at the hotel then?"

"Hopefully," he replied, nodding. The two lingered in each other's presence for a moment, but the moment didn't last very long, as John threw his arm around Lola's shoulder and steered her away. She didn't bother to put up a fight, since it would only _start _a fight between the three men, and she wasn't quite up to playing referee.

"Dude," Mike started, waving his hands fervently, "you need to watch it! Hernandez is no good, I can tell..."

"Mike, since when have _you _been the distrusting one? I thought that was my job," Lola interrupted.

"We're just watching out for you, and you know that, Lollipop," John said sweetly, looking over his sunglasses at his friend. Lola sighed and nodded, knowing that John _did _have a point, and it was hard to resist him when he called her by that name.

"I know. I just want things to run smoothly," Lola replied, pushing her glasses up once more.

"You _are _a control freak," Mike cut in, grinning and giving her a pat on the back.

"Like my density, it's a gift." The brunette smiled in an awkward sort of way, before frowning as she watched John and Mike's expressions change from that of amusement to that of annoyance. She flicked her eyes upward and immediately understood: Matt Morgan was standing before them, and he did not seem to be in such a pleasant mood.


End file.
